


Life Swap.

by AshleyJinxxBiersack



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demon!Dean, Human!Castiel - Freeform, Human!Crowley, Kind of AU, Metatron Being a Dick, angel!Sam, deanmon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-18
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-23 11:52:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3767137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshleyJinxxBiersack/pseuds/AshleyJinxxBiersack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Metatron takes over, he plays with far more than just the order of Heaven.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life Swap.

Another day, another life saved. That's how things had been as far back as they could remember. Saving people, hunting things. The family business. And by blood or not, all hunters were family. It's what they survived on.

Today was no different to all those other days. Drive around, do a bit of digging, figure out how to proceed with the problem. Ghouls, vengeful spirits, demons, vampires, werewolves and hell, even angels... in the end, they were all the same. They were all threats, and the threats needed to be eliminated. The only thing making today different from any other day was that it was Saturday August eighth, whereas a week ago it had been August first, and today was a pretty miserable day rather than the bright and warm one they'd been granted with the week before.

The thing with hunting is that you never knew what to expect. Each job was different and varied in length and level of stress and fighting, but it was a job nonetheless, and it was a job that needed doing. The date, time, day and weather didn't matter. What mattered was saving the lives of the people who hadn't had a clue of the existence of these creatures up until the moment a hunter or two got involved.

This job had been an angel hunt. An angel had gone rogue and was destroying the lives of innocent people to get revenge on the father she no longer believed in. It had been tough to find her, and lives had in fact been lost, but so many more had been saved when her own angel blade impaled her and took her life as quickly as she'd been given it. Another crisis averted.

The black Impala was rolling into the parking lot of another motel, just as it always would after another successful hunt, only this time there were no words of praise and congratulations sung between the car's occupants. The purr of the engine cut out, and the hissing and ticking of the engine cooling off eventually died down, leaving the driver and his passenger in silence. Neither moved, neither spoke. Hell, if they didn't need to breathe to survive, they wouldn't even have done that.

"Something feels wrong," the driver finally muttered, looking at his friend unsurely.

"Something always feels wrong with you recently," the other scoffed, shaking his head as he got out of the car.

"No, I'm serious!" the first man exclaimed, getting out after him and grabbing his bag from the backseat before locking up the car and following.

"Let's just get a room, and maybe we can talk more about why you're just being paranoid and preventing us having a drink and enjoying another victory," the mild English accent said, heading into the reception to get a room booked. The driver sighed, leaning against the wall outside the office and checking his phone for the sake of something to do. It was almost midnight now. It had been a long couple of days.

No more than fifteen minutes later, the two were laying on their beds with beers in hand and another silence filling the air with a tension so thick that a knife could slice it in two.

"I don't understand why you don't feel the same," the blue-eyed man murmured, looking over to the other bed. The bed's occupant sighed.

"Cas, really. You're just paranoid from the constant run of jobs recently. Don't sweat it and try and get some sleep before the next one comes in."

"I'm not just paranoid, Crowley, you don't understand!" Cas insisted, sitting up and swivelling around to face Crowley properly.

"Castiel, listen," Crowley said, following suit and turning to face him. "I say this because you're my friend. _You need some help._ I would call Bobby, but we can't exactly do that anymore, so we'll have to look elsewhere for something to sizzle your brain free of doubts and worries."

"Don't you just get this feeling that we're meant for far more than just this?" Castiel asked, becoming frustrated as he stood and started to pace. "I can't help but have this sinking feeling that you and I were created for far higher purposes than hunting and killing."

"You're talking shit, Castiel, are you drunk on just one beer?" Crowley asked, remaining sat down as his eyes followed the pacing man in the creamy-brown coloured trench coat.

"I'm perfectly sober," Castiel snapped defensively. "I don't understand why I'm the only one feeling this way. I don't- I just- something is _wrong_ about all of this and it has been for _days._ "

"Alright. I'll play your game," Crowley finally said, throwing his hands up in defeat as he got up to grab another beer for each of them. "Do explain to me why you feel this way."

"You're not being funny," Castiel said lowly.

"I'm not trying to be. I'm trying to help you see sense!" Crowley exclaimed, throwing his hands up again before grabbing the beers and tossing one over to Castiel. The other man caught the bottle without even looking over in that direction. That regularly impressed Crowley, though he wouldn't admit it out loud anymore.

"Maybe it just hasn't occurred to you yet, but surely I can't be the only one who can't remember much from being a child," Castiel said bluntly. Crowley frowned at him.

"What are you babbling on about? I remember my childhood perfectly, thank you very much," he said.

"Yeah? Prove it," Castiel said. "Fifth birthday. What happened on that day? I can't remember what happened when I was five, and I'm regularly told it was one of the greatest days of my growth."

"I turned five," Crowley said bluntly. Castiel narrowed his eyes. Crowley held his free hand up in defence, taking a swig of his beer. "Alright, alright, let me think."

As he thought back, Crowley kept opening his mouth to speak then immediately closing it after, his frown growing more and more every time the motion happened. He began to realise that he in fact, like Castiel, couldn't remember turning five.

"Holy cow, I can't remember," he muttered, frowning at his blue-eyed friend. Cas seemed relieved as his shoulders sagged, but the worry was still clear as day on his face. "I-I could remember before but now I can't. What's happening to me?"

"Whatever's happening to you, is happening to me too," Cas said, shaking his head and finally opening the new beer bottle. "We should dig around and see what we can find."

"Got it," Crowley said, pulling the laptop from his bag and powering it up.

Hours began to tick by. The beer supply eventually ran out, and the room was soon full of papers and the few books they had with them at the time. The two were becoming tired, irritable and stressed. It was approaching early morning, and neither were any closer to making sense of what was happening.

Crowley couldn't help but feel incredibly annoyed with Castiel for even bringing it up in the first place. _Who the hell even does this?_ He'd wanted a good night's sleep before their next job came in, and they just thanked their lucky stars when the morning ticked away to midday and they'd heard no word of weird occurrences that usually lead to work for them to do.

He'd scoured every possible corner of the internet he could find, including government files, and Castiel had stormed through paper after paper, book after book, but neither were any closer to finding an answer to the situation's questions.

Eventually, with a frustrated noise in the back of his throat, Castiel threw another book proven to be useless on his bed and got up, raking his hands through his messy hair.

"This is hopeless," he said.

"I could've told you that a total of-" Crowley paused to look at his watch. "Nine and a half hours ago."

"What?" Castiel questioned, frowning at his friend.

"This has been pointless since we started, Cas. We're not going to find anything digging through books and the internet," Crowley said, placing his laptop aside and standing, stretching out his tired muscles and listening to his joints cracking. "We need help."

"From who? If we can't find anything, how the hell is any other hunter going to find anything?" Castiel asked.

"Anything is possible, but I'm not talking about hunters this time," Crowley said. Castiel's frown grew.

"Surely you can't mean-"

"We need to seek help elsewhere, and we'll start by finding ourselves an angel," Crowley said, grabbing Castiel's keys from the table and heading out to the Impala to check they had the things they'd need for the summoning. Castiel blinked after him for a second before sighing and packing up all their mess, being sure to conceal their weapons first in case a maid came in for cleaning.

Within the hour, the two were back on the road heading to a quiet place to pull the summoning off without any disturbance from the outside world. Castiel didn't like having to summon help from the very beings they had to kill to protect people. Crowley didn't like it anymore than he did. But it was times like this where they had to just give in and ask for help from one of the most dangerous beings known to mankind. Though, things should go off without much of a hiccup. Crowley had informed the slightly taller that everything they needed was in the trunk along with everything they'd need for their backup plan.

It was in a small place just outside of Michigan where they stopped. The block of old storage units hadn't been used in a good three or four years, and no one really appeared during the day. Teenager hooligans went at night to graffiti the place without being caught, but aside from that, it was completely abandoned.

"This place is disgusting," Crowley commented, grabbing the bag of stuff from the trunk.

"You said a quiet place, so this is a quiet place," Castiel said, nose turning up in disgust when he spotted a couple of used condoms near the shutter to one of the units.

"And full of evidence of stoned and drunk sex," Crowley muttered, kicking aside a broken scotch bottle as he followed Castiel to the farthest end of the block.

With ease, they picked their way inside one of the lockers, thanking their lucky stars that it was only a couple of old used condoms inside and no signs of drugs or something. It was as clean as they were going to get in a dump like this one.

By the time early evening rolled around, their plans had been set in stone, and everything was ready. Crowley stood near the shutter that had been closed behind them, and Castiel was stood near the back end of the locker. They'd managed to rewire this one unit to get lighting, though very dim, but it was all they'd need.

"Do you even know which angel this will summon?" Castiel asked, hands buried in the pockets of his trench coat.

"Yes, which is why we're doing it my way and not your way," Crowley said. "I need one of the big guys, not their faffy seconds."

"You mean you're summoning an _archangel_?" Cas almost snapped.

"What? _No_ , you moron! That's a death wish if I ever heard one!" Crowley snapped. "I meant one of the higher end angels that are literally the rank below the archangels. They're enough of a ranking safer to summon and not immediately be burnt up by."

"Who is it you're summoning?" Castiel asked. Crowley rolled his eyes.

"Shut up and watch, my friend," he said, shaking his head and lighting the match in his hand. He dropped it into the bowl placed near his feet, watching the flames spark to life as he chanted. " _Rah ah gah ee oh es. Vee nu nohno kee ah seh peh teh poh ah ma lah deh zod._ "

For a while, nothing happened.

Castiel was about to voice his concern when the lights started to flicker. He looked at Crowley, who's face mirrored his. A high pitched squealing starting to fill the room, and Castiel was the first to try to block the sound out with his hands jammed into his ears. He clenched his eyes shut against the light that was forming, and Crowley soon joined him.

Seconds seemed to drag by, but eventually the sound died down and so did the light. Crowley and Castiel cautiously opened their eyes and straightened up, coming face to face with a man far taller than they'd expected. Well built, too. He looked like the sort of man that could crush you with a finger and a thumb. His chin length brown hair was slightly tousled from his arrival, but he simply used his fingers to brush it back out of his face. He wore faded blue jeans, a blue plaid shirt and a grey-ish coloured jacket. Boots covered his feet, giving him the smallest bit of extra height he clearly didn't need.

"Is there a reason I was summoned?" he asked. Castiel nodded slowly when Crowley glanced at him.

"Yes, actually. We wanted to talk," he said. The angel raised a foot to step forward, then glanced down, huffing a laugh.

"Do you think I was born yesterday?" he asked, stepping back from the ring of oil.

"Yes, actually," Castiel commented, flicking a lighter to life and throwing it onto the ground. A ring of fire sprung to life around the angel, and he sighed irritably. Castiel moved around to stand beside Crowley, and the angel watched him through narrowed eyes, his lips pulled into a straight line. A classic bitchface, if Castiel did say so himself.

"Could you not have prayed like every other human being and waited to be answered?" he asked.

"No," Crowley said. "If we'd prayed, we might've gotten an angel that wasn't you."

"And why, pray tell, do you need me specifically?" the angel asked, raising an eyebrow and folding his arms over his chest.

"Because you're the highest ranking angel we could call without being immediately fried," Crowley answered, crossing his own arms. "We need answers, and we think you can help."

"What makes you think I will?" he asked, a smirk pulling at his lips.

"We can leave you in that circle all day. No skin off my nose," Crowley said with a shrug. The angel scowled.

"Fine," he hissed. "What is it you want of me?"

"Who are you?" Castiel asked, a frown on his face. Something was ringing in the back of his mind, but he couldn't pick out what.

"My name is Sam," the angel said, composing himself and becoming calm.

"And I'm Crowley and this is Cas," the English man said, rolling his eyes. "Let's get to business, shall we?"

"What is it you want of me, Crowley?" Sam asked, attention back on him. Castiel was trying to figure out why Sam was so familiar to him, yet so new to Crowley. _But not really that new, since Crowley new exactly who to summon._

"Something's going on with me and Cas," Crowley said. "If you'd asked us a week ago what happened when we were kids, we'd be able to tell you ever detail. Now? Nothing. Notta. No memory whatsoever."

"And what has this to do with me?" Sam asked, a blank expression crossing his face. "Surely your doctors are better suited for this question than me."

"No, because we don't think it's anything to do with humans," Crowley said, stepping closer to the circle. "Something's been done to us. We want to know what, and we strongly believe you have the answer."

"Well I can assure you that I do not," Sam said, shaking his head, causing some of his hair to fall forward and frame his deep brown eyes.

"Damn," Crowley muttered after staring for a few minutes. He looked at Cas. "He's not lying, is he?"

"Unfortunately, no," Cas sighed. "Plan B it is."

"Damn it," Crowley muttered, clenching his fist. Sam was watching them closely.

"I am of no use to you now. You can release me," Sam said.

"No. You might be useful," Castiel said quickly as Crowley made to release him. Crowley gave him a look and Sam narrowed his eyes.

"Come again?" Crowley asked.

"Just trust me on this one," Castiel sighed.

"Fine," Crowley said, straightening up again. The angel seemed to growl as he mentally burned holes in Castiel's head. "But it's not my fault if he smites your sorry ass."

"He won't," Castiel said, pulling the angel blade from beneath his coat. The angel's glare melted to a frown.

"Where did you get that?" he asked, voice quiet.

"A friend of yours," Castiel said simply, tucking it away again as he and Crowley packed up their things. "Come quietly, and we won't have to use it."

"What is it you want me for? I can't help you, I told you this," Sam said as Crowley shoved open the shutter and took the bag back to the car. Castiel shrugged.

"I think you could be useful to us with who we're paying a visit too next," he said simply, extinguishing the fire. Sam remained where he stood. "Come on. We need to get going."

\--------------------------------------------------------

Six and a half hours later, it was approaching eleven in the night and Castiel found himself stood in the middle of a crossroad with a metal box in his hands.

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Cas?" Crowley asked. "Who the hell are you even summoning?"

"The only damn demon that seems to enjoy this job these days," Castiel said, crouching down to bury the box in the gravel. He stood upright, glancing around.

"So who's the sorry sap you're using as a meat suit?" Crowley asked, making short conversation with the angel.

"A law student from Lawrence, Kansas," Sam answered. "Strong willed man and very smart. He has an older brother he's currently fighting with, but he wants to make it right again, much like I want to with mine."

"You have a brother?" Crowley asked, raising an eyebrow. Sam nodded.

"Will you two shut up?" Castiel asked, glancing around the area. "This should've worked by now."

"It did, but I'm humouring myself."

Castiel spun around, coming face to face with a man with short brown hair parted at the side, and a stubbly jaw. There was a smirk sat on his lips as his hands dug into the pockets of his brown leather jacket.

"I do enjoy watching people think it didn't work. Scares the pants off of them when I do suddenly show up right behind them," the demon chuckled, stepping forward a few steps then pausing, a soft, breathy laugh echoing around them. "Really? You think I was born yesterday, kid? I know when there's a demon trap around."

"I didn't doubt that, which is why I was prepared," Castiel commented, watching the demon walk around where the obvious trap was set. When he suddenly stopped walking, he growled, and Castiel smirked. His eyes burned coal black as he looked at the shorter man.

"Sonuvabitch," he muttered. "Fine. You got me. What do you want?"

"Answers," Castiel said.

"Including to the question who the hell are you?" Crowley commented, stepping closer.

"Name's Dean," the demon said, smirking as the black in his eyes faded to green. "Knight of Hell, dealmaker extraordinaire. This handsome face is just some mechanic I picked up in some bar somewhere in Kansas on the way here. Gets me a lot of good things in this line of work with a body like this."

"Spare me the details," Crowley said, shuddering subtly.

"So what do you need answers to? I should be making a deal outta this shit," Dean said, shaking his hair and mucking up his hair, making it stick up a little more.

"Crowley and I can remember nothing from when we were children, yet only a few days ago we could remember everything. We need you to tell us why," Castiel said. Dean snorted.

"Shouldn't your fancy doctors with their bargained degrees and awards be the ones answering that?" he asked. "I'm a Demon. I know nothing of how the human mind works other than it make stupid decisions at the best of times, like the one to summon me here and waste my damn time!"

"He's about as useless as the bloody angel," Crowley complained. "Why not just kill him and be done with it?"

"Demons lie, Crowley. He could know something," Castiel argued.

"You asked a self-righteous dick before you came to me? I'm offended," Dean chortled. "So, who was it? Hannah? Balthazar? Zachariah? Oh, how I despise that bastard. I'd watch him burn in holy oil a thousand times over to get my kicks."

"No, none of those," Crowley said, pointing behind him. "Him."

Dean looked over, and his expression blanked over. The angel slowly approached, pulling himself out of the shadows fully.

"Dean," the angel greeted.

"Sam," the demon said stiffly, looking back to the hunters. "You called _him_ of all people? He's about as much use as a grace-less archangel."

"You don't mean that," Sam said. Dean snorted.

"You're damn right I do!" he exclaimed. "It's your sorry ass that put me here in the first place!"

"That's not true and you know it," Sam argued.

"It is and _you know it_!" Dean spat back.

"I... take it you two know each other?" Castiel questioned more than stated.

Sam sighed, nodding. "This is my brother."

"Jesus. You got stuck with a rough one," Crowley commented.

"Shut your cakehole. You don't know shit," Dean spat, looking Crowley up and down for a second before looking back at Sam. "Get outta here. You're not needed anymore."

"He's going nowhere. We still need him," Castiel said, pulling the angel blade from inside his coat. Sam just shrugged when Dean looked at him blankly.

"You're kidding right?" he said, huffing out a laugh. "Sam. You're a fucking angel. _You have a freaking blade._ Just end these assholes and be done with it!"

"You think I didn't consider that?" Sam asked.

"So why the hell didn't you do anything?" Dean asked. "Damn it, Sammy. Not going through with your first instinct is what got you into trouble in the first damn place!"

"I'm starting to believe something is very wrong with what's going on around us," Sam admitted. Dean stared blankly, and Crowley turned to look at him strangely. Cas frowned, but kept his eyes on Dean.

"Come again?" Crowley said for a second time that day.

"I feel like this isn't my place," Sam said honestly. "Like something is throwing things out of balance."

"Now you're talking bollocks," Dean snorted, shaking his head and stepping back from the edge of the hidden trap. "Come on. Just let me outta here so I can get on with my damn job. I won't even take your souls for this one! Just let me go."

"Not yet," Castiel said.

"What happened to you, Dean? You used to jump into it when I said something was wrong," Sam said sadly.

"That's before you got me kicked outta the pearly gates and damned my soul to this bullshit!" Dean exclaimed. "But hey! Look at me now!" He threw his arms out to the sides, leaning forward slightly with a twisted grin on his face and a crazed gleam in his eyes. "I'm King of the Crossroads! Maybe I'll even be King of Hell someday."

"That almost felt like deja vu," Crowley muttered. Castiel frowned and looked at him. "Something is definitely wrong, and if Sam is feeling it too, then it's something way out of our control."

"You still talking about that shit? Don't waste anymore of my night. I could be out getting laid right about now. Or eating some damn pie!" Dean complained.

"Since when do you eat pie?" Sam asked. Dean frowned, standing upright properly.

"I've always eaten pie... haven't I?" he asked.

"Demons don't really need to eat anything," Castiel said. "Nor do angels."

"That's weird," Dean said, frown remaining.

"How recently have you started to enjoy pie?" Crowley asked.

"I told you. I've always enjoyed it," Dean insisted. "What the hell has this got to do with anything?"

"Sam said that you used to jump into things when he said something was wrong. But Demons and Angels don't work together," Crowley continued.

"But Dean also said Sam got him banished, though not in those exact words," Castiel pointed out. Dean's frown seemed to grow.

"What are you saying?" Dean asked.

"That you're denying the fact something is wrong and you can feel it too," Castiel said. Dean growled.

"You're making things up and fucking with me. Just let me go already. I won't bother you," he said.

"No. We definitely need you now," Crowley said, pulling cuffs from his pockets. The cuffs that had the traps etched into them. Dean tried to get out of the way, but the trap he was stood in prevented his movement. Before he could do anything about it, Crowley was locking the cuffs around his wrists and Castiel was breaking the trap he'd been stood in and digging up his box.

"Come on. We need to get somewhere more private," Castiel said, leading the three back to the Impala. Dean let out a low whistle.

"Some nice wheels," he commented. "God, if I needed to drive, this beautiful thing would be my car of choice."

"A friend of mine gave it to me a while back," Castiel said.

"This friend of yours got another one he can hook me up with?" Dean asked as he was pushed into the back of the car beside Sam.

"I... don't remember who it was," Castiel said, his worry growing in the back of his mind.

"I don't know what you expect us to do," Sam said when the engine roared to life. "We don't even know what's wrong with you. Or us, for that matter." Dean mumbled something.

"What?" Crowley questioned.

"I said Life Swap," Dean repeated.

"Told you he might know something," Castiel said bluntly.

"What's life swap?" Sam asked.

"Exactly what it says on the can, princess," Dean said, shaking his head. "Someone with a lot of higher power is fucking things around and there's a chance that lives have been switched around. Hell, there might even be dead people that never actually died because of this."

"So you think we're living someone else's lives?" Crowley asked. Dean nodded.

"That's why you morons can't remember being kids. It might be that you haven't been kids in a very long time, or you just didn't have a childhood good enough to want to remember," he explained.

"So this could also be why you like sex, pie and cars, and why I know you used to find any opportunity to dig into something," Sam added.

"And why I feel like I've known you two a lot longer than this," Castiel admitted.

"Oh for God's sake," Crowley sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Right. Fine. So say this _is_ the problem. How the Hell do we fix it?"

"We need to get to the pearly gates to see who's in charge up there," Dean mused, enjoying the way Sam squirmed in his seat and pulled his lips into a thin line.

"No one's ever seen God, Dean. What makes you think a Demon and a couple of humans will be any different?" Sam asked.

"I just know," Dean said stubbornly. Sam didn't want to argue further, so he just nodded.

\------------------------------------------------

The days ticked by into a weeks, and all the four could do was get on each other's nerves. Dean was obnoxiously loud, and Sam always argued with him about the smallest of things. Castiel was running on fumes and coffee instead of a good night's sleep, and Crowley was just easily annoyed anyway.

Things were starting to feel stranger by the day, and everything about their lives began to feel wrong, right down to the fact Castiel and Crowley even needed to sleep in the first place where Sam and Dean didn't.

Castiel still couldn't shake the feeling that he knew Sam and Dean a lot more than this, and Crowley was starting to feel that way about the situation, too. But Sam and Dean had no recollection of ever seeing the hunters before, and if they knew something, they were keeping it quiet.

Almost eleven weeks passed by the time anyone had even found a _word_ that might be helpful to them in some way. They were in the end of the first week of November now. The weather was getting colder and wetter, and they days were getting much shorter, but no one was paying mind to the minor details.

"Why did you both choose those specific vessels?" Crowley asked one night while they sat quietly to give themselves a break. "I mean, surely there must've been something more appealing to you than the mechanic's way with women and the law student's smarts and moose-like build."

"Did you just call him a moose?" Castiel asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't know where that came from. Shut up," Crowley snapped defensively.

Sam gave a sad smile and looked at Dean for a second, who only snorted and looked way. "Dean and I always pick vessels that are siblings, and more commonly, siblings that are fighting."

"So the mechanic is the student's older brother," Crowley said quietly. Sam nodded.

"They were fighting about their parents again," Dean muttered, drumming his fingertips against his leg. "They lost their mother when they were kids. Their dad was... not much of a dad."

"I don't know why we always pick siblings, but it just doesn't feel right if we don't," Sam said.

"We always seem to need a vessel when one of the siblings is ready to make up with the other, and we always seem to be in the same place at the same time," Dean said, looking at the hunters. "Usually it's the younger sibling that wants to make things okay again, and the older is usually the stubborn one."

"Like you two then," Castiel said. Dean snorted and Sam frowned.

"What makes you say that?" Sam asked.

"You said yourself that you wanted to make amends with Dean," Castiel said. Dean frowned, looking at Sam. "And clearly Dean is the stubborn one."

"That true, Sammy?" Dean asked. Sam raised an eyebrow.

"Why are you calling me Sammy?" he asked.

"It.. just feels right, I guess," Dean answered. Sam nodded slowly.

"We need to figure this out. We need to get to Heaven," Crowley said. He pointed between the angel and the demon. "You two... there's something going on here and clearly neither of you realise it. This shouldn't be happening. Angels and demons just don't get along, family or not. None of the angels wanted anything to do with Lucifer even though Lucifer is one of them, so why would a demon want something to do with an angel? Much less want to call him by a pet name like _Sammy_."

"That is... strange," Castiel agreed. Sam and Dean looked at them, and Dean narrowed his eyes at Castiel. "What?"

"You know something," the demon accused, standing up and stepping closer. "You know something, but you just don't remember."

"I do not know what you're talking about," Castiel said.

"I know. That's why you need to shut up and let me dig," Dean said. Before Castiel could get a word in, Dean smoked, or at least tried to. "Son of a bitch."

"Nice try," Crowley said.

"Take the cuffs off, or we're not gonna get anywhere," Dean snapped. Crowley tried to protest, but Sam gave him a look. Castiel remained silent. With a reluctant sigh, Crowley uncuffed Dean, making the demon smirk. Dean smoked out and took possession of Castiel, leaving his vessel drop to the floor. Sam frowned.

"Something about this feels very wrong," he said. Castiel's eyes burned black as coals, and he stayed silent. Minutes ticked by, and there was a tense silence. Finally, almost half an hour later, Dean smoked out of him and claimed his vessel again, jolting upright as Castiel briefly blacked out.

"Anything?" Crowley asked.

"What did you do? Sam questioned.

"Metatron," Dean said. "He's, uh... fuck. What was he?"

"An angel," Castiel muttered. "Metatron is an angel. But why is that important?"

"I couldn't find that answer," Dean grumbled.

"Does Crowley know anything?" Castiel asked. Dean looked at the other man for a minute then shook his head, his expression irritable.

"He's useless," Dean said. Crowley scoffed.

"Speak for yourself," he said.

"Hey, I just got us a bit closer to figuring this shit out!" Dean argued.

"Alright enough!" Sam exclaimed. "We don't have time for fighting if we want to get answers."

"I agree with Sam," Castiel said. "We need to summon this Metatron and demand answers from him."

\---------------------------------------------------------

If you were to ask Castiel and Crowley how long they'd slept in the past few weeks, it wouldn't be a very impressive answer. Between the two of them, they'd slept for somewhere around ninety-six hours. They'd been surviving on fumes. Caffeine. Adrenaline. During those weeks, Sam and Dean had started to feel mild effects of not sleeping at all, but they still didn't because angels and demons don't need sleep, right?

Sleep deprived and desperate for some answers, Castiel stood in the middle of their motel room and performed the summoning ritual. Crowley stood aside with the demon blade in his hand. Sam had his angel blade tucked away in case it was needed, and Dean had his weapon so well concealed that not even Sam could figure out what it was.

"You're sure this is a good idea?" Sam asked.

"This is the only idea we have," Dean commented.

"Let's get this over with," Crowley said. Castiel just nodded, chanting the same words Crowley had used to summon Sam something over two months ago. For a little while, nothing happened, and then in a far less dramatic way than Sam, a short man with incredibly curly hair appeared.

"No one seems to have enough faith to pray these days," he commented rather chirpily as he shook his head. He looked between the four, raising an eyebrow. "Sam and Dean. I thought you two hated each other?"

"We do," Dean said a little too quickly. "We just need answers to a few things that we can't get anywhere else."

"So you've allied with a couple of hunters?" the man questioned.

"Are you Metatron?" Sam asked. The man smiled, standing up straight and nodding.

"I am," he said. "What can I do for you?"

"Answer anything we wanna know," Dean said, snapping his fingers. Flames came to life around the angel, and he sighed sadly.

"I should've seen that one coming," he said. "Alright, you have me. What is it you wanted to ask?"

"Why do all of us feel like we don't belong where we are?" Castiel asked.

"Maybe there's something in your life that you want to do that isn't this," Metatron suggested. "Though I'm thinking Sam and Dean don't have a huge choice in that instance."

"Which is why something is clearly very wrong," Sam said. "Dean and me... we feel the same way Castiel and Crowley do. We're not right, and we're suddenly picking up habits that have never been ours."

"Such as?" Metatron questioned.

"We both feel tired," Sam said. "Angels and demons don't sleep."

"I like sex and pie. That shit doesn't amuse demons," Dean said.

"He calls me Sammy, but he's never had a nickname for me before," Sam continued.

"He wants to make things right between us, but demons and angels don't get along no matter what," Dean added. "You getting our drift?"

Metatron sighed. "Damn."

"What? What have you done?" Sam asked, becoming more alert. Metatron chuckled.

"Looks like I'll just have to do another reset," he mused. A violent gush of wind flooded the room, and the fire went out. Metatron stepped forward, but Castiel and Crowley had their weapons in hand immediately. Sam followed suit. "Oh _please._ Is that all you've got?"

"No, it's not," Dean said, pulling his weapon from beneath his jacket. Metatron frowned.

"Where did you get that? I specifically made sure you didn't have that," he said worriedly.

"I found it," Dean said with a shrug, smirking. "It's amazing what people will try to use on you when they want to save their souls." He and Sam stepped forward, creating a semi-circle in front of Metatron, their weapons raised with Castiel and Crowley's, ready to strike at a moment's notice.

"What did you do to us?" Crowley asked.

"It doesn't matter. I'm just going to hit the rest button anyway, so why would it matter to you?" Metatron asked, chuckling to himself. Castiel's arm flicked forward, creating a slit in Metatron's throat that glowed blue. Sam dug a small glass vial from his pocket and stepped forward, holding it beneath the mark. The blue light flowed into the vial, and Sam corked it tightly. Dean took the opportunity to slit Metatron's leg, making him yelp and drop down.

"Not much good now, are you?" the demon mused. "Might aswell just tell us what's going on here."

"You have no power over me. I am your God!" Metatron exclaimed.

"Not without your grace you're not," Sam chuckled, pushing the vial into his pocket and holding his blade up again. "We'll kill you faster if you don't start talking. To create the point, Crowley created a gash in Metatron's chest, smirking when the curly-haired man yelled out. Crowley was enjoying the suffering more than he usually would. _That's another thing that is totally and utterly wrong._

"The Angel and the Demon tablets!" Metatron said quickly when Castiel made a move to hurt him some more. "I used them to reset things when I took over and I swapped a few people's lives over to see how they'd cope doing each other's jobs! You were never meant to start figuring things out, but you have before, so I just keep resetting things when you start to figure it out. You've never gotten this far before and I didn't realise because I was focused on other things for a little too long."

"Son of a bitch," Dean said. He crouched down and pressed the edge of the First Blade to Metatron's throat. "You switch us all back, or so help me, I'm gonna make your life miserable. A living nightmare."

"I can't. Your brother has my grace now," Metatron said.

"I don't trust him enough to give it back to him," Sam said. "Call it a hunch."

"Hunches mean something in this situation," Crowley pointed out.

"Damn," Dean muttered. "Fine. Tell us where the tablets are and we'll figure it out ourselves."

"I wouldn't tell you that," Metatron snorted.

"I don't have time for this," Sam muttered, creating a cut on the side of Metatron's face. "Tell us. _Now._ "

"Fuck this," Dean muttered, tucking his blade away and smoking out for the second time that night. He took possession of Metatron, and stayed there barely five minutes before smoking back into his own vessel and getting up again. "I'll be back. The Angel tablet is right next to his soul. He wouldn't be stupid enough to leave that alone. I'm going for the Demon tablet."

"Hurry up," Castiel said. "I don't like how wrong all this feels."

"You and me both," Dean muttered, disappearing.

Sam was the one to retrieve the angel tablet, much to Metatron's discomfort. It took longer than he'd hoped, but he did get the piece of stone, and Metatron temporarily blacked out when Sam was done. The angel frowned at the stone.

"I don't recognise all of this," he said. "I can read some of it, but not all of it."

"Let me see," Castiel said, taking the stone from him. Crowley kept his eyes on Metatron. "I can read some of this. Probably the parts you can't read. Or at least I'm hoping that's the case. It's very old Enochian. Few angels can read this."

"How do you know that?" Crowley asked.

"Maybe he was an Angel before this assclown interfered," Dean commented as he reappeared with another tablet in hand. "I can't read any of this. Anyone want to volunteer?"

"Let me see," Castiel said, taking it from him. "This is in Enochian too. We should be able to reverse the damage done and restore order in the world."

"Good. Get on with it," Crowley said. "I have a feeling I was someone way more interesting than this."

"How do we go about doing the spell?" Castiel asked while Sam read through what he could understand.

"I'm not-" Metatron didn't finish his sentence. He made a pathetic whimpering noise when Dean pulled the blade from his jacket again. "There's a Latin spell along the bottom of the tablets. Hold them side by side; Demon first, then Angel. Read the spell backwards."

"And you're sure this will work?" Dean asked. "If this doesn't work, I'm going to have so much fun ripping you to shreds."

"It'll work, I swear, I wrote the damn things!" Metatron exclaimed.

"I can't read the spells," Sam said, frowning.

"I can," Castiel said, tucking away his blade. He took the tablets from Sam and held them beside each other, as he was told. He glanced over all the words for a minute or two, then he started to chant the spell backwards. It sounded complicated and made no sense, but when the room began to shake, they all knew something was happening.

"I hope this bastard is right about this," Crowley said. "Dean should've pulled that out of him too."

"I'm not doing shit else," Dean said. "We've just gotta hope he was telling the truth about this."

"Look at his face. He looks worried. He wouldn't look worried if he'd been lying," Sam pointed out as Castiel finished reading.

Dean suddenly twitched, the jolt making him drop the blade. Involuntarily, he smoked out and disappeared through the vent, leaving the vessel to drop to the floor.

"Dean!" Sam exclaimed, eyes wide with fear. He suddenly gave a yell, tipping his head back as his eyes and mouth light up with a bright blue light.

"Bollocks," Crowley said, staring. "What's happening?"

"Everything is reversing," Metatron informed the hunters. "They're going back to what they were before I changed their lives around."

"And what's that?" Castiel asked, shoving his worry aside when Crowley suddenly disappeared.

"You'll see," Metatron said, a note of dread in his voice. Before Castiel could get another word in, the tablets slipped from his grasp and shattered upon hitting the floor, and a bright white light filled his vision while a high pitched ringing made his head feel like it would explode at any given second.

\---------------------------------------------------

There was a strange sense of uneasy calm in the building. It was cold, and it felt damp. This place was enough to give even a demon the creeps, and demons were in fact the ones that dealt with creepy on a regular basis.

Dean was the first to stir, groaning as his muscles and joints protested his movement. He sat up slowly, digging his palms into his eyes and praying for the ringing in his ears to go away.

"God," he groaned, finally prying his eyes open and looking around. The last thing he remembered was being outside this building, then nothing. He looked beside him, finding Crowley laying there. A little away, the dark haired angel was just stirring. "Cas?"

Dean got up onto his knees and shifted around the demon King, gently pulling Cas upright. The angel groaned lowly in his throat, blinking his eyes open.

"Dean," he said. "What-"

"I don't know," he said. "Are you okay?"

"I think so," Cas answered. Dean nodded, letting him go and looking around. Further away from them all was the one person Dean cared most about.

"Sammy!" he exclaimed, scrambling to his feet and darting over as Crowley joined the world of the living again behind him. Dean dropped down onto his knees and pulled Sam up a little, pulling him close and slapping his cheek lightly. "Sam? Sammy, wake up!"

"God, Dean," Sam groaned, a tone of pain in his protest. "What happened? I don't- I can't remember what happened."

"Just worry about waking up for a second," Dean said, utter relief in his tone as Castiel approached them. The angel crouched down and placed two fingers to Sam's forehead, effectively healing whatever pains he was feeling. Sam gasped softly, then relaxed for a few seconds before sitting up and blinking a couple of times.

"Thanks, Cas," Sam said.

"Don't mention it," Cas responded, pushing himself upright. Dean got up to and held his hand out, hauling Sam up when the younger grabbed his hand.

"Does anyone want to tell me what's going on here?" Crowley asked as he joined them, looking irritated. "I was in the middle of clearing up the mess Abbadon left behind!"

"We know as much as you do," Sam said. Crowley sighed, rubbing his temples.

"What's the last thing you remember?" Dean asked his brother.

"We just got here. We were fighting about... something. I was about to say sorry to you and I just blacked out," Sam said.

"Dean was panicking," Castiel commented. Dean looked at him. "Sam passed out in the middle of a sentence and you worried, just as you always do. You passed out too. Which means the same must have happened to me."

"But why?" Dean asked.

"I don't know, but I think we're about to find out," Castiel said, looking towards the unlocked entrance of the building. Someone was trying to sneak out.

"Hey!" Dean yelled. The figure made a break for it, and without hesitation, Dean shot after him as fast as his legs could carry him. Sam followed, calling after his brother. Crowley just rolled his eyes and disappeared, making a much faster journey. Castiel followed suit. The figure wound up crashing straight into the two of them, and Sam and Dean soon caught up with them, panting hard as they came to a stop.

"Metatron," Castiel greeted bitterly. "I should've known you had something to do with this."

"Oh, lighten up. It's harmless fun!" the man defended.

"Why were you running from us? You're an angel. You could easily escape," Dean said.

"Not without his grace he can't," Crowley mused, a twisted sort of smirk on his lips. Sam frowned, pushing his hand into the pocket of his jeans and pulling out a small vial of blue glow.

"How do you have that?" Dean asked.

"Because he took it from Metatron," Castiel said, a small frown forming on his face. "I remember now."

"Remember what?" Crowley asked. "Do share with the rest of the class, darling."

"Metatron switched up our realities," Castiel said. "Sam was an angel and Dean was a demon. They were still brothers, but Dean had been cast out. They only possessed siblings that were in the middle of fighting."

"We were fighting when we passed out," Dean observed. Castiel nodded.

"What did that make you and Crowley?" Sam asked.

"We were hunters," Castiel said. Crowley's face scrunched up in disgust, like he'd eaten something bitter tasting.

"God, I remember now," the demon complained. "That was horrible. Don't ever let that happen again. I was a _human._ "

"We made a fairly good team," Castiel said quietly.

"How did you manage to figure it out?" Metatron asked.

"The signs were all there, and they were obvious after the first one," Castiel said. "I don't remember being a child because I've been alive for a few millennia now. Crowley has a few hundred years under his belt. Maybe even a thousand or so. Sam and Dean had the same habits as they do in this reality; Dean likes pie, women and his Impala, and he called Sam, _Sammy._ Sam knew that Dean would usually dig around if something was strange, so when Sam said something was strange and Dean didn't start digging, he knew something was wrong."

"Damn it," Metatron sighed. "So now what?"

"I skin you alive for fucking with us," Dean growled, pulling the demon knife from the inside pocket of his coat.

"Dean, no," Sam said, stopping his brother attacking. Dean stared at him.

"Are you fucking kidding me? He fucked with us, Sammy. That's not acceptable," Dean said.

"I know, but it's not our call because we're not angels," Sam reasoned. Dean groaned in annoyance, lowering his blade as Sam handed the bottled grace over to Castiel.

"I could always steal his soul and torture him for a few thousand years. He is at our mercy right now, after all," Crowley mused darkly. "I don't take lightly to people trying to take me away from my kingdom."

"Don't we know it," Dean mumbled.

"If you're not careful I'll take your soul too, Squirrel," Crowley threatened.

"I'll shank your sorry ass if you come near me," Dean retorted, glaring at the demon.

"Enough," Castiel said. "I will take him back to Heaven as he is and let them decide what to do with him. They will either lock him up or execute him. They won't leave him running free if there's a chance he can mess with our realities again. Had that not been solved, the results could've been catastrophic."

"Well, it looks like you saved our asses, Cas," Dean said, tucking his knife away and smiling at the angel. "Thank you for figuring it out."

"Yeah, thanks Cas," Sam echoed.

"You're welcome," Cas said, his small but very genuine smile tugging up the corners of his mouth.

"Well if I'm done here, then I'm leaving," Crowley said, not waiting for another world before disappearing.

"That asshole," Dean muttered. Sam smiled and Castiel sighed. It was good to be back.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a load of utter bullshit written at half 2 in the morning.  
> I dunno. It's an idea that just came to me out of nowhere so I wrote it and this monstrosity happened.  
> Probably the longest one-shot thingy I've ever written, so go me! :D  
> There's a lot of dialogue, and for that I apologise, but I'm not hugely great at anything else, so it just happens even if I don't mean for it to happen. o-o
> 
> I hope you kind of enjoy it, and please do let me know what you thought. ^-^


End file.
